by Darcy Burke
"Hello!" He heard from the direction of the door.
"In here, Eric. There is no fire." He could hear Eric and several others shuffle through the smoke, which was now leaving through all means necessary.
"What in blazes happened here?" He heard the Innkeeper.
"This happened," Devon answered motioning to the rock. "Can you send someone to get Lord Breakerton? He needs to see this."
"Aye," The Innkeeper turned and bellowed, "Boy, gGo get the laird. Tell 'im tis bloody hell important!"
"How would a rock get into an oven?" The Innkeeper asked, looking over Devon's shoulder.
"Not by itself. That's for sure," Devon answered dryly.
Chapter 13
"Ella – Ella, say something."
Say something? He wanted her to say something?
Ella sat in the small orangery, the scent of the blossoms filling the air. The moment she had seen Devon, she knew something was wrong. Her oven, her very livelihood was destroyed. What does one say on such an occasion?
You win?
She looked down at her hands with white knuckles clasped in her lap. If she only had time to think, she could plan her next move, but he was waiting; waiting for her to say something, anything. A strong independent woman should rally. Right now, she was just trying not to fall apart in front of him. She would have to save rallying for another time.
"You said no one was hurt. That is a good thing for sure." She fell silent again. She knew that was what she should say so she said it.
After a few moments of him waiting for more, he forged ahead. "There was very little damage from the smoke above stairs. The building is well built. Clive has people there airing it out and cleaning."
"That's fine." She knew he wanted more, but she was empty. After all the work, all the dealings with the blackmailers, she was empty, not to mention her coffers. She had spent all she could allow herself. Penniless she was not, but closer than she would like to admit. She looked up to see Devon's beautiful eyes searching her face. She had hoped to leave the bakery to Penny when she took her leave, but that was not to be. "Thank you for taking such good care of things," she said breaking their connection. "I guess I now have some thinking to do." She felt removed from the scene. All the colors had dimmed and the room kind of fell away. She had nothing left to give of herself. She had failed, just as her father said.
"What is there to think about? You and Maddie will come back to London with me. You should not have to worry about such things," Devon said moving to inspect an orange blossom hanging low near his shoulder.
A fear settled in her chest. She had assumed the blackmailers had been at work, but what if it had been a more sinister devil? "Why would you think that? It is just a broken oven. One good mason and his apprentice can have it in working order in a fortnight." She knew that was the truth, but the cost would be immense. She watched him digest her words. What would be his next move? She hated to think that he was behind this, but her long taught beliefs were too strong. She felt her heart shatter in a million pieces. She had started to hope, no actually believe that perhaps she was meant to find her happiness at last, and that it was with Devon.
"I, I simply thought you might finally be done with all this." He swung his arm around to signify the whole of her existence. "Could I point out, Madame, you have had mishap after mishap since I have been here. How can one run a successful business in that fashion?" He looked at her with determined eyes.
"You are correct, My Lord, I have come upon some hardships as of late, and you are correct that it is not the best business practice to entertain such expensive repairs. I am, however, an independent woman, and can therefore take care of any issues that I must." He was becoming more agitated. She hoped her emotions were not getting the best of her, but what if he was the one. She had her doubts about the blackmailers even being intelligent enough to know how to rig the oven. What if it was he? Was he trying to force her hand? Her emptiness filled so quickly with riotous anger it made her dizzy.
"Why can't you accept assistance when offered? I want to take you away from all of the strife that, you seem to be toiling with. Is your independence worth your apparent safety? In addition that of our daughter? Does that not worry you?" He looked angry now.
The orangery suddenly felt stifling. The trees hung heavy and draped, closing them in. Ella stood not wanting to feel or appear any smaller than she was. She had begun to trust him. She had considered, before she found out who she was, going back with him. Was she only one touch away from forgetting all her promises to herself? She wanted independence. She hadn't wanted to depend on anyone. When you depended on people was when they let you down.
She looked at him, and caught his gaze. She searched his face for a hint of innocence. She wasn't sure what it would look like. All she could see was arrogant male. Oh, she didn't want to believe it. For once, since she had been dealing with the blackmailers, she hoped it was their doing, but until she knew for sure, she couldn't make any decisions.
"Why? Was it really that important for you to win our bet?" She stepped closer to him still hobbling on only one good ankle and turned her head up to study his reaction. It was a mix of confusion and angry frustration.
"What in the devil are you talking about? Why what?" He asked.
Ella stepped away. His scent even over powered that of the blossoms. She made her way around the bench she had been sitting on. Her leg was throbbing, but she used the pain to fuel her resolve. She stepped up to the back of the bench and put both hands on its rim, in part to hold her weight off her ankle and to hide her shaking hands.
"It was you, wasn't it? You couldn't stand the thought of not being able to convince me to leave, so you planted the rock in the oven."
The room began to spin. Devon went still. She was blaming him. The hardheaded, impossible woman actually thought to blame him.
What of the two men who tried to accost you in the woods and want you dead? He wanted to ask. After all, if he were to weigh the danger, he personally would have gone in that direction. A slow hot anger began to build within him. It had to be anger, because the other option was hurt. He couldn't allow himself to be thus affected. Love was enough, but to feel hurt this deeply would surely kill him, no, anger he could deal with.
"Are you suggesting, actually, suggesting that I was so sure you were going to turn me down, that I, after making love to you half the night, rose from your bed hours before I needed to, and raced into the forest to find a stone. I might be obliged to add that said stone would have taken two men to carry and lift into the blasted oven." He took one more step and placed his hands on either side of hers leaning into the bench only a fraction from her face. "That I then carried said stone to the bakery, snuck in, deposited it, left, and made it back in time to appear that I had just arrived? Not to mention putting both Penny and Eric in danger?" The last he ground out on a growl barely containing the beast just under the surface.
"Well, I..." She was uneasy, but he wasn't so blinded by his emotion that he didn't notice she never looked away.
"You, my Lady," he let sarcasm drip from those two words, "have a more lofty idea of your self-worth than I thought, or you have a much lower idea of my character. Either way, I am afraid I can no longer remain in your presence. Good day." He turned never looking back. The glass door of the orangery rang as he strode toward the main house. He needed to ride, but he needed clean clothes. As heavily as he breathed, the smell of black burned bread filled his nostrils again and again. A good hot bath, then a good hard ride, might allow him to be in civil company, but he doubted it. Could she really make love to him as she did last night, and in the light of day, accuse him of such violence?
♥♥♥
"You are absolutely sure it wasn't him?" Ella knew how foolish she sounded, but Penny's look of shock proved it. As soon as she saw the hurt in Devon's eyes, she had been aware of what she had done. The last thing she ever wanted to do was hurt him. She couldn't be with him, that she understoo
d, but the thought of him thinking she thought him capable of something so terrible ate at her.
"Aye, I'm certain. If 'e hadn't moved me when 'e did, I might not be here, and after, well if you had seen 'im after, 'e was all business." Penny said with enough passion that you would have thought her smitten. "You ought to be ashamed of yerself for considering such," she stated the next with a good helping of disdain.
"You are correct, of course. I just–" Ella shook her head. "I don't know what I was thinking." They sat having tea. Clive insisted Penny move into the manor instead of having to go back to her parents' home until the bakery could be cleaned. Flick and LePrin had also scolded her about her accusation and took their leave with Maddie and a promise of cake. She hadn't seen or heard from Devon since he left, but it had been time she needed. She knew what would happen if she remained. Regardless if the bakery could be fixed or not, she had to leave. She was in love with Devon. She wasn't denying it, but that didn't mean she had to give in to it. If she stayed, it wouldn't take many more nights like this last one to make her putty in his hands. She would agree to go to London, take on the Ton and all the gossipmongers, settle in, only then would it be revealed whom she was. By then Devon would not be able to turn her out and she would live the rest of her life loving a man who could not stand the sight of her. Not to mention that after her misguided accusation earlier, he might be happy to see her go. No, Maddie and she would have to leave. Soon.
The long patio stretched the length of the back of the manor. Vines trailed along the low wall separating it from the lawn. It was a very pleasant place. She looked out over the lawn. She loved Scotland. This was where she felt herself. The desire to leave didn't exist, but she also knew Devon would look for her, if he could forgive her rudeness. He would get tired of the search after a while, but she needed to move somewhere he wouldn't look. Perhaps she would settle in well, in Northern England. The landscape was still similar, but he would assume she would remain in Scotland. In her reality, she knew she would travel until she found a place that suited her, so thinking about it was useless.
"Ella?" Penny asked touching her arm to bring her back.
"Oh, sorry, I guess I am just still shaken from the events." She covered her woolgathering.
"Well, tis understandable. I meself will not sleep as well as I would like in that soft bed." She giggled a bit. She had assumed Clive would put her in the servant's quarters, but he had said she was a guest and would be treated as such.
"I trust your room is to your liking?" Ella asked, knowing the answer already.
"Oh, tis beautiful. If I wasn't already in love with me Eric, I would be setting my cap for His Lordship." She giggled again.
The two women finished their tea and talked of plans for when the bakery was open again. Ella excused herself after a half an hour and returned to her room. She had letters to write and packing to do. She was very happy her ankle bothered her only the slightest bit when she was on it for long periods. Sitting at her desk, she took out her ink well, pen, and a scrap of paper. She had been in this position before. All the feelings were the same, but this time, she knew how leaving would feel before she did, and was certain she would be leaving her heart behind.
♥♥♥
Devon sat at his writing desk, pen hovering over the paper. The last piece had at least three large drops of ink because he couldn't bring himself to begin. What did he want to say? He had spoken with his father only once about his mother. When he asked what his father wanted most, his father had said he wanted a chance to tell her what she had done to him. It made sense. The last word, as they say. His problem was that his father had been at the point in his life where the anger outweighed the love.
Devon wasn't there. As soon as he began to write, he knew his true feelings would be obvious for the world. She didn't love him. That was obvious by her accusation. She didn't trust him. He didn't care if both her parents had been coal miners, he loved her, damn it!
The scratch of point to paper filled the room and continued for a good hour and several more sheets of paper. Finally, he sat back and reread his declaration. He sanded the paper, folded it and put his seal on it. He was not sure where his life was about to go, but he would no longer hide behind his father's hurt. If he was truly to live, he had to own his own hurt, joy, or regret. If she still wanted her independence above a life with him, then he would congratulate her for her courage, even though he believed it was her cowardice keeping her from something special.
Crossing the room, Devon pulled the bell pull and collected the other papers from the mason, which included a receipt for work paid for in advance. She wouldn't be able to argue with him and throw his generosity back at him he thought. The last packet of papers was that of Maddie's dowry which had been posted in time for him to leave that as well. He refused not be in her life, but that was a battle for another time. He needed to concentrate on her mother first.
"You rang, my Lord?" His valet stood ready in the doorway. To his credit, he only just glanced at the bag sitting by the chair at the fireplace.
"Yes, I did. I would like you to deliver these to Lady Ella. Make sure they are in this order when you give them to her." He had made sure to put the mason's papers, Maddie's packet, and his letter last. It would give him some time to make away. "I am taking a trip. I will not need your services. I will contact you when I am settled and give you instructions."
"Yes, my Lord," the valet answered dutifully. "Do you have a note for Lord Breakerton or have you already spoken to him?"
"I have not spoken with him. Please, mention to him I was called away and that I will let him know when I am settled and my business is concluded."
"Yes, my Lord," he said, bowed, and left the doorway.
Devon bent to retrieve his bag. He made his way out the side door of the manor and down the long lawn to the stable where he had instructed Eric to ready his horse. He was not surprised when Clive met him, leaning on a post as he entered the barn.
"You're good, but not that good," he commented.
"Drinking this early is not a good sign for a man who lives alone in the hills of Scotland," was all Devon answered as he went to ready his horse since Clive had dismissed Eric, he assumed.
"You know, I think I liked you better with no humor. The dark brooding Lord." Clive pushed himself away from the post and walked to pet the horse's muzzle. "Oh, but wait, if you survive your suicide mission to kill two insane farmers, you will go back to London alone and return to your father's legacy of being the embittered dark brooding Lord, so I guess there is hope for the status quo after all. That is, if you survive."
"You can shut up at any time, you know. How do you know I am not just leaving on some urgent business and will be back in a fortnight?" He looked at Clive and didn't need him to answer. He moved around him getting the saddle and hefted it up onto the horse. "You know, you seem very smug for a man hiding from your father's ghost yourself. Are you here for the solitude or because no one here speaks of how perfect your father was, and that you have large shoes to fill?"
Devon was satisfied in a cruel way to see emotion fill his friend's face, then go back into his easy devil may care smile. "You can't do this alone. You need help. Let me help."
"No."
"Why?" He moved from the muzzle of the horse to standing in front of Devon making him look at him.
"Because," Devon sighed, "she needs someone to look after her. I need to know you are here to watch over her. She trusts you because for some reason, she doesn't fear you like she does me."
Clive laughed and shook his head. "Why is it, my sisters love throwing lovers together? It is truly more work than it is worth." He turned and walked back to his post. "Are you as ignorant, or is it just the state? She trusts me and doesn't fear me because she isn't in love with me." The implication hung in the air. Oh, how Devon wanted to believe it, but right now with her words a sharp knife in his back, it wasn't possible.
"Just promise me you will protect her. I will
ride out and spend the night at an inn I passed when I first came. I plan to strike at night only after I have had the opportunity to make a plan. I will attempt to send word when the deed is done." He swung up onto his mount and reached down for his friend's hand.
Only after a moment, Clive reached up and grabbed him at the elbow in a strong embrace. "I understand. I don't agree, but I understand. I will protect her, you have my word."
"Thank you." And with that, left the barn to give Ella her independence. It was independence from her worries of money, her worries of her past and her blackmailers, and potentially from him.
Chapter 14
"Damn, Damn, Damn!"
"Pardon, my Lady?" The valet asked Ella as he stood stoically in the doorway of her room after delivering Devon's letter.
"Oh, sorry. It wasn't of any import. Thank you. Um, will you be seeing His Lordship soon?"
"I am not sure, my Lady. He has instructed we are to remain here until he sends word. I am sure he will not be gone long."
Ella asked trying to keep the emotion at bay. She had never read words any more romantic, or unworthy in her life. After the way she had treated, Devon she did not deserve the words on the velum. Once he found out the truth about her birth, he would recant every declaration anyway, so it was of no consequence. At least that was what she needed to tell herself in order to make her escape, because if she thought it would be different, it would be impossible to leave. She had gambled her heart and once again lost.
"Of course, I am sure he won't." Ella answered distractedly as she made her way to the desk, moving the thick letter she had just penned to Devon to the back of the secretary. She took up the smaller letter to Clive, the rich velum, feeling smooth between her fingers. Once she dispatched this letter, there would be no turning back. She had thought it fitting that she once again found herself running from the only man she loved, but it was not to be. The pen clinked the side of the inkbottle as she readied it. It was more fitting she decided that he be the one to leave her. She had all but told him to leave.